the_realm_of_wonderfandomcom-20200213-history
Baldrick Barkbeard
Age: 120 Dwarf Subrace: Hill Dwarf Class: Druid Alignment: NG Background: Outlander Personality Traits: 1-"I watch over my friends as if they were a litter of newborn pups" 2- "I have a lesson for every situation, drawn from observing nature" Ideal: "It is each person's responsibility to make the most happiness for the whole clan and our race" Bond: "My family and clan are the most important things in my life, even when they are far from me" Flaw: Brandy, also "I am slow to trust members of other races and societies" Backstory: My father, Tordek Barkbeard, was the leader of our clan and a favored cleric of Marthammor Duin, the Watcher of Wanderers. We were a clan that lived on the edge of Grontdrengiakazad and fended off threats like hill giants, worgs, orcs and any other hostile groups that would threaten the mountain. We would also hunt large game to provide our mountain kin with meats and leathers and become less dependent on the humans and elves. Our clan is also known far and wide for our Barkbeard Brandy, which is a closely guarded family recipe. Everything changed when the deep ones attacked. The able bodied fighters of my clan were recruited and I was the eldest among those who they left behind. I was only 24 at the time, and I had to hold back because my brother was still only 2. Noone came back. From that battle my clan went from over 300 strong, to just under 70. The next winter we were harried by goblin hordes, shunted by the other races, and we were lacking in enough hunters to feed us all. I had to teach the young ones everything I knew, and I had to feed my brother. My father never completed training me to follow in his footsteps, so I prayed to seek answers. I never heard from any god, but I did get a response. The next day a huge herd of elk passed us by and we caught enough to last us the next month. That was how I started my path. Even with all that the remaining years were hard and today we are numbering but 36. I didn't want to dishonor my father by diverging from his path, so I taught all I knew of him and Marthammor Duin to my brother. Eventually I found him a priest that he could study under and I was so proud of him when he first heard the words of the Finder-of-Trails. Together we have been the spiritual leaders of our people, and they look to us for guidance. We never lost our lands south of the city, but the traditions of my clan have not proved to stand up to the traditional life of the humans near us. They would prefer the leather and meat from their livestock and the only thing of trade we have is our brandy and mercenary work. We have held onto the few dwarven tools and weapons we had during The Fall, and the new tools we get from humans just don't last. I can see that the Barkbeard way is dying out and I know that the only way to save my clan is to save our race. I will meet my fellow dwarves and Grontdrengiakazad will be ours once again! Category:Hill dwarves Category:Druids